Flightless Bird
by Raptor whirlwind
Summary: Three years after the golem, Kitty is captured by the government and forced to serve as a servant in Mandrake's home. Kitty is far from happy. It never turns out well when a hurricane meets a volcano. Set in a world where the third book never happened and Makepeace taken care of, things are still far from perfect in London. Chapter 4 update: Feb
1. Flight

The rebel sprinted through the woods; she heard the panting of the wolves hot on her heels. It was important to not glance back; one glance and her resolve would crumple. Earlier this evening, a friend had informed her that the nightpoilce had found her hiding place; they were going to take her to the tower. She had barely escaped in time. It had been a while since she experienced the Adrianne pumping through her veins. It was a particular feeling; the causal observer would have taken it for fear. But Kitty Jones knew better, fear was a completely different feeling, difficult to overcome, difficult but…not impossible. And what she was feeling now was fear, the fear of the tower of London, fear of decades wasting away in the prison, the fear of doing nothing.

She desperately wished the resistance was still active but Makepeace had led them to their doom. Kitty knew better now, Makepeace's plot had been exposed and he killed in an attempt to escape. She smirked despite the situation; he had gotten what he deserved. A branch whipped past her face, leaving a thin trail of blood. She stumbled on a tree branch, almost fell. Gritting her teeth, she forced her aching muscles to keep sprinting. With the resistance, gone, her life after had just been dull, numb, she had acted as though nothing happened, assuming a dozen different names, taking up a dozen different jobs, no one came after her, until the day she decided it would be a good idea to summon Bartimaeus, it had gone terribly wrong, Mr. Button had found her before she could complete the pentacle and the neighborhood imp had sounded the alarm. Nothing good had happened after that, she had been forced to hide away and Mr. Button was taken away for questioning, she felt slightly guilty because he had known nothing about her plans.

Kitty violently pushed aside some overhanging branches.

No matter, first she would get out of London, then she would…she would…Kitty stopped in a moment of confusion, what had she wanted to do?

Why was she running?

Who or what was she escaping from?

The girl blinked, shook her head disoriently, and in that lapse of judgment, a werewolf tackled her to the ground.

Blinding white pain.

Kitty struggled and pulled out a silver knife, stabbed it upwards. Felt warm blood on her hand.

She heard the wolf wail and leap back. Scrambling to her feet, she found her self surrounded by a wall of fur. The head wolf had a nasty jagged cut, blood trickled down his jaw, he stared at Kitty with deadly eyes. Kitty looked around for a way to escape, she found none. The werewolves edged ever closer, coming in for the kill. Kitty squared her shoulders, preparing to fight her way out. She had spotted a patch of open field earlier, maybe she could shake them off if she hid in the grass? Doubtful, first she would have to survive this.

What?

…Wolves? Why were wolves surrounding her? What had happened?

…Why couldn't she remember?

No! She suddenly recalled what had lead her to this. Who was messing with her?

A commanding shout.

Someone had cast a spell! Those blasted magicians, She wiped the blood off her face, if she got out of this, that person was going to pay big time.

She staggered suddenly, her vision failed her.

…

…

"What are we going to do with her?"

… "I have an idea…we…"

What were they saying? Why could she not move her limbs?

Slowly, bit by bit, the girl came to her senses. _They must be magicians_ , Kitty thought angrily. _Werewolves wouldn't have left me in one piece._

Feeling slowly returned to her fingers, the rebel carefully and deliberately grasped her knife and raised it, preparing to spring.

Her head throbbed painfully, she ignored it and sprang up in a whirlwind of flashing knifes and kicks. She contacted nothing but air and a werewolf restrained her.

"Whoa, she is certainly a handful, eh?" said a woman with too much makeup and a skirt painfully inappropriate in this weather.

The other magician snorted, he wore a coat that covered most of his face, his breath fogged the air, and it was obvious he was trying not to show how cold he was.

For a few minutes, they just regarded her silently and coldly.

"Are you going to take me to the tower?" Kitty barked, "Well get on with it before I kick both your butts."

The woman wrinkled her nose, Kitty finally recognized her as Jane Farrar. "What a distasteful specimen, get it out of my sight, I think I might puke from its sheer ugliness."

Kitty gave a little snarl, "That coming from you!"

Farrar twitched then strolled away casually, stopping a while off, as if remembering something, "Oh my dear, you are not going to the tower." She sounded very disappointed. "You will have a much better fate, lucky you. On house arrest."

Kitty breathed a sigh of relief, anything was better that the tower.

"That's right." agreed the other magician, who Kitty had completely forgotten about till now.

That voice…It could not be!

He grinned at her in a way she did not like at all.

"My house, as my servant."

Said Mandrake.

Oh _hell._


	2. Interlude

Less and less

The art shop smelled of dust, mould and forgotten things, the details hazy. Leaning on the counter, Fred glared at Kitty when she walked in. She briefly wondered why she had come to this place. "Prancing around with magicians now, eh? Betcha she got tired of us." Fred quietly growled. Kitty never had felt Fred was a scary person when he was alive, but in the dim flickering lights of the shop, he terrified her. However, she was Kitty Jones, the girl who fought demons, not Kitty Jones, the coward. She stepped in Fred's direction. "It was not my choice." She spat, she let her cold gaze wander over the other occupants of the room. Anne sat behind Kitty in a plush chair, lazily twirling a knife with broken motions, an odd thing she could never have managed in life. Stanley was…right behind…, Kitty whirled around, hands clenched in fists. "What about that raid then? You knew something was wrong, you should have tried harder to warn us, _traitor._ " The boy sneered, way too close.

No longer sitting, Anne moved to block the exit. "Die magician!" The woman cried triumphantly. Kitty felt a bolt of ice hit her, she stumbled back into the counter, a silver knife embedded in her chest. The scene rippled, now she _was_ Anne, lying helpless on the ground. "Aww… look who got lost!" A disembodied voice cackled. The last thing Kitty saw was a golden glint of a mask and skeletal hands reaching down.

For the few moments after she sat in a daze, staring sightlessly at the window curtains, heart pounding, then she gripped the edge of her bed and levered herself, hands shaking, into a chair.

Even with the morning light streaming in, the dream still seemed terrifyingly vivid. Kitty had suffered from a bad case of nightmares, one after the other in the weeks following the failed robbing but she had thought them to be gone for good. The girl scowled, these nightmares always left her weak in the knees, stupid really, since the people they involved were already pushing up daises. Nonetheless, she wished guiltily that she had been smarter back then. Even that blunder of that magnitude could not compare to last night though, she had fallen into a magic trap, cast by a _magician_ of all things. How she had fainted from a mere _head wound_ was still utterly beyond comprehension. To top it off, _Mandrake_ , the twerp now was her boss! Did the arrogant kid actually think he could enslave her too?

While taking in her surroundings, Kitty spotted a pile of clothes on the bedside table. Suspiciously, she prodded the mound, half expecting another trap. When nothing happened, she picked a light yellow t-shirt, and after a moment of hesitation, pulled it on. Well...at least she had _some_ choice in this matter. _Come on, don't be so bitter._ She chided to herself, _you just have to tolerate that brat until he drops his guard then escape after socking him._ Her lips twitched upwards as she remembered the last time she had done _that_. She continued her scan of the room.

Last night, a very grumpy Mandrake practically shoved her into this room and then proceeded to ignore her as he set several protective charms on the doors and windows. If there was one pet peeve Kitty had it was being ignored, nothing could get under her skin like silent treatment. The very thought causing her to scowl, the angry girl finished dressing and threw the only lamp in the small room at the poor door. Furious, she watched as it was repelled back across the room by the barrier.

By the time Bartimaeus came to fetch her, an hour had passed and every single item in her vicinity had been chucked at some point in time. Exhausted, Kitty had stubbornly and futilely raised another flower pot.

She knew that it was not going to break the barrier, but she couldn't care less. Boredom was taking its toll. What she did _not_ expect was for the door to open.

Bartimaeus

Mandrake had "asked" in a threatening manner for me to investigate the strange noises emanating from the small guest room. Apparently, he was still obsessed with Kitty Jones. Ho hum, you never know what is going on in the minds of teenagers these days. However, hopefully he would be satisfied with her and let my painfully sore essence return for a rest in the Other Place...Or me and the girl could band together and create a win-win deal, the possibilities were endless.

Things had been going steadily downhill for the past two or so years since Kitty had defeated that Golem. Mandrake was heading down the well worn path of corruptness and misery that all of his kind choose. Meanwhile, I was running on empty, no break for Mandrake meant more work for me which meant no return to my home. It was enough to make a baby cry. I was hoping Kitty could save me from this nightmare.

I was not hoping for a flower pot to the face, not to mention the dirt ruined Ptolemy's loincloth.


	3. I do not regret anything

Bartimaeus

For a few precious moments, I stood staring dumbfounded at the girl, the dirt trickling slowly from my face. The next thing I knew I was grappling with an angry vixen, I received a swift punch to the nose before I slammed the door shut. Kitty had tried to dash for freedom while I was motionless.

"Oh, hello Bartimaeus," Kitty rambled while still struggling futilely towards the now closed door. "How nice to see you…."

"Nice to see you too, however, it would be nicer if you could stop ruining my loincloth and punching me from now on." I said with as much sympathy as I could spare.*

It pleased me that she indeed did gradually. With my master acting like he has something shoved up his butt everyday even my normally unscratchable patience was being tested. Panting, she eyed me suspiciously at first then gave me a quick once over. The girl relaxed a bit and seemed more at ease with her environment. I launched into joyous banter. "What's with the better mood? Was it my charm? No, no need to be modest, I understand some things just take your breath away."

Kitty snorted, and then pushed back a strand of messy hair. "Spare me."

Her temporary prison looked like an angry goddess had tried to find something, tossed everything out of her way and then decided to fling the things around the room in a giant hissy fit.

I passed a weary hand over my eyes, "You know who has to clean up this mess at the end of the day right? Me, in the essence! Seriously, what do you even get out of this? The magician gets away scoot free and the poor poor dijin has to sweep up the remnants."

"Yes, well, I was angry." The girl looked unapologetic. Then she perked up, "Speaking of which, you won't have to clean up his messes ever again if you collaborate with me and take him down!"

Personally, I was all for it. If it had been any other old broad, I would have rattled off all his weaknesses and his birth name like a machine gun. Maybe it was the way she said it, I had an uncomfortable image of Mandrake's head on a pike in the middle of the square. Whatever the reason, I suddenly experienced an uncanny attachment to the brat, so I hesitated. Looking back on this later in life, it might have been the wisest thing I had done for others, for _him_ that is. Such are the sacrifices a noble dijin has to make.

"Whoa, hold your horses, let's be sensible here. We don't want more bloodshed that necessary. Let's think of an actually viable plan first, because I also was charged to show you around the house pronto. Don't want Mandrake to fry me with the red-hot stipples." I opened the door again, cautiously this time, I was glad she didn't make an effort to bolt again. Judging by the expression of thunderous wrath on her face, I don't think I could have really stopped her from gouging Mandrake's eyeballs out.

*Sympathy towards my loincloth of course.

Kitty

"I AM NOT WASHING YOUR BLOODY DISHES!" Kitty exploded in pure irritation. It was her third day in the demented Mandrake household and she wished he would die in a fire. They had had roast salmon with kale for dinner, made by the other part-time human servant Mandrake had employed, a quiet soft-spoken lady in her forties called Staph. Staph was short for something but apparently nobody bothered to find out. The dinner had been quiet, per usual, the second one in a row. Mandrake apparently thought he was doing her a huge favor by allowing her to eat with him as he not so subtlety implied from their strained dining table conversations. Staph had had the foresight to leave whenever Mandrake and her were in the same room and so had taken into the habit of leaving in the afternoon, when the snobby thing was still working.

It was strange really, she was fine doing the housework when he was not around but as soon as he walked through that door she felt an inescapable urge to challenge everything he said. So when he suggested she do the dishes because he had some work he needed to take care of, she exploded.

Unsurprised by her outburst, Mandrake instead looked frustrated and possibly jaded. "I cannot deal with this every single day, settle down or there will be severe consequences. I expect you to behave from now on."

Kitty recoiled in fury, her hands trembled, she opened her mouth but could not find the words.

Unfortunately for the magician, he took it as acceptance. With everything seemingly under control again, he turned to leave, smoothing out his shirt as he went.

Kitty did not move.

"I am not doing your dishes. Leave me alone" Kitty's voice was suddenly low and quiet. She stated it slowly, grinding out each syllable. The dining room suddenly seemed devoid of warmth.

Mandrake spared her a frosty glance. He spoke with professional detachment, "It is this or the tower, Miss Jones, I expect a person of your caliber would know when to be quiet."

The slap rang for a long time afterwards.

No one spoke.

Kitty smiled, it was all teeth, she settled back in quiet satisfaction.

Mandrake slowly lifted a hand to his face, where a red hand shaped splotch was fast spreading. The next look he shot her was loaded with venom, "You will regret this." He hissed, white faced. The magician whipped around and retreated up the stairs. Kitty flexed her hand grimly.

That sentence did not frighten her as it was meant too; instead it only encouraged her little act of defiance.

"I don't think I will, Mandrake." Kitty murmured, her anger appeased.

No dishes were done that day, as Staph had found out. She received an earful from her the next morning but Kitty found it mildly amusing.

In the week following, Bartimaeus secretly informed her that Mandrake had sat in bewilderment for almost an hour afterwards. The spirit found it hilarious.

However, as the days went by, Staph took on most of the housework again. Kitty's days were once again spent listlessly counting the minutes and wishing to escape. Bartimaeus was off on the odd job most of the time, Staph never really talked to her and she was very very certain Mandrake was avoiding her. Apparently, she now had her own "space". He always made sure she was in her "space" before he did his work. Her so called "space" consisted of the living room, dining room and any areas Mandrake did not frequent. The rules had been slowly developed, a "you don't bother me and I will not bother you" policy. Once out of spite, Kitty almost waltzed into his "area" just to see his reaction but stopped short of the parlor when she remembered that she demanded the space in the first place.


End file.
